


Aiding Consequences

by DistractedSiren



Series: Bylaude One-Shots [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F!Byleth, F/M, That's it, and helps him right into another one, byleth tries to help claude out of one awkward situation, that's the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 05:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20688290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedSiren/pseuds/DistractedSiren
Summary: Besides, he’d gotten himself into his current predicament, and Byleth was sure he was adept enough with that silver tongue of his to get himself out of it.(Yeah, she needed to stop drinking once she’d finished this mead, or else thoughts of Claude’s tongue were going to torment her long after she dragged herself to bed.)





	Aiding Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry chapter 9 of "Catalyst" isn't up yet. I wrote out the Goddess Tower scene...and decided it just didn't come out the way I wanted it to. I'm working on another draft, but today is going to be busy, so I decided to post this and another one-shot while I try to put something decent together for "Catalyst." Love you guys, hope you like this!

Their efforts had paid off: a few dead wolves and demonic beasts had freed up the supply lines into Garreg Mach. Food and other perishables would soon start trickling back into the monastery and neighboring town, and that meant that Claude could finally begin preparing for the assault on the Great Bridge of Myrrdin in earnest.

But, he’d insisted, what was a victory without a celebration? It wasn’t just the monastery that would benefit from the increase in trade and supplies; a lot of neighboring towns had been teetering in the edge of starvation before the former Golden Deer had marched out to clear the way for the farmers and merchants. When they stopped overnight at one of these villages to rest on their way back to Garreg Mach, the villagers had insisted on throwing a party for the fighters.

Byleth had wanted nothing more than to slip into a hayloft and sleep, but Claude had only given her a smirk.

“No escaping tonight, Teach,” he told her. “Everyone’s worked hard, and we need to enjoy these happier moments when we can. Now that the war is starting in earnest, there will be precious few opportunities like this. And if you disappear, all of your little fawns will worry.”

She snorted at the term ‘little fawns’ and a genuine smile broke out over his face. He nudged her shoulder with his own. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

“Alright, for a little while,” she agreed with a sigh, already following him as he led the way to the large, empty barn the village was using for the festivities. In the few hours since Byleth and the victorious Deer had arrived, women and children had been hard at work weaving flower garlands. Candles and torches lit the cozy space, and fresh, sweet-smelling straw had been spread over the hard ground, though they’d left a large patch clear for dancing. Barrels of mead and wine were being rolled in from the tavern down the street, and a few of the townspeople were tuning their homemade instruments.

When she and Claude were spotted, the festivities began in earnest.

Byleth had been to rustic celebrations such as this one before. Inevitably they led to hangovers and fleeting trysts (she was starting to sound like Jeralt). She had no doubt that Sylvain, at least, would wake up with a stranger the next morning. But Claude was right, it was just a bit of harmless fun. And her allies needed a reason not to worry about the much larger, much more fatal struggle they were still engaged in.

Mostly, she watched from the sidelines, sipping some of the honey-sweet mead the locals made as she watched her old students laugh and dance. Even Lorenz seemed to be enjoying himself after a second glass of wine.

But it was Claude—devastatingly handsome, unerringly charming Claude—who was receiving most of the attention tonight. Every young, unmarried woman in the town, and even a few of the married ones, had either grouped around him or found themselves near him. Some engaged him in conversation, some were bold enough to flirt. Others merely made sure he had a decent view as they danced or primped nearby. Byleth hid her smile in her mug. He seemed comfortable enough, even flattered by this excess of female attention, but she knew him better than that: she could see his eyes roaming over the barn’s interior, searching for possible escape routes.

He had to be used to this sort of thing by now, surely. Tall, broad-shouldered and easy-going men were the type that most women found hard to resist. He was too handsome for his own good, and one flirty or heated look from those forest green eyes could make any woman feel recklessly special. One day he’d have to learn how to rein it in a little, if he really didn’t want so much attention.

Besides, he’d gotten himself into his current predicament, and she was sure he was adept enough with that silver tongue of his to get himself out of it.

(Yeah, she needed to stop drinking once she’d finished this mead, or else thoughts of Claude’s tongue were going to torment her long after she dragged herself to bed.)

Somehow he extracted himself from the circle of ladies and made his way over to her. With the quick, casual grace she’d helped him cultivate in the training yard, he snatched her mug and downed a long swallow of the mead.

“Too sweet,” he said with a scrunch of his nose. Byleth grabbed her cup back.

“That’s what you get for stealing my drink.”

The women’s eyes had followed him over to her. Byleth considered them for a moment. She knew the best way to make sure that Claude didn’t finish the rest of her beverage was to drink it all down herself, so she did so. That was probably a mistake. It loosened her tongue just a little too much.

“You like it,” she murmured. “The attention. You and Sylvain both. You claim to hate it but that can’t be true, the way you court their notice.”

He shrugged. “It’s makes for a more pleasant party than telling them all to back off.”

Byleth continued to consider the women. Some of them looked as though they were working up the courage to come over to them.

“You know, there’s a trick my father’s mercenaries used to use when they wanted tavern girls to back off. I never had occasion to try it myself, but it was usually pretty effective,” she mused.

He looked amused by this little glimpse into her past. “You know how I like tricks, Teach. What did they do?”

Byleth didn’t pause to think about what she was doing. Instead, she reached up, grabbed his cravat, and tugged his mouth down to hers. For just a moment, she felt him flounder in shock. Then his hands settled onto her hips and he was kissing her back for all he was worth.

Her lips parted beneath his as he groaned into her mouth, and she welcomed the hot sweep of his tongue while he pulled her up onto her toes against his body. His hands disappeared from her waist so he could wrap his arms around her and keep her pressed flush up against him. What had started as a show kiss was deepening, making her dizzy as her blood started to sing through her veins with anticipation.

She hadn’t meant to do it, but her fingers had wound their way into his silky hair and she was tugging it gently, then she began running her nails along his scalp as he explored her. He made a small, needy noise as she did, and the barn could have burnt down for all she cared. The hot, sweet way he lingered on her lips was the only thing that mattered.

There was a little pocket of silence around them when they finally broke apart. Claude was flushed, panting, and he stared at her with dark, stormy eyes as she dropped back down off of her toes. She felt like she couldn’t quite find her balance, and she gripped his biceps as reality came crashing back over her.

Then someone—Raphael maybe?—gave a loud, celebratory _whoop_, and despite Claude having just disappointed almost every lady there, the crowd was soon cheering along with the jovial merchant’s son.

Claude didn’t cheer. He just kept staring, his arms holding her captive against his body.

“We need to talk,” he murmured to her in a low, ragged voice.

“Okay,” she replied, unable to tear her gaze from his. He let her go enough so that he could take her hand and lead her out of the barn. They walked through the quiet streets of the village, away from the noise of the party. Then, all at once, Claude stopped again and pushed her up against a wall. His mouth slanted over hers with an urgent hunger that let her know this wasn’t the first time he’d imagined kissing her. And if his technique was anything to go by, his imagination had been thorough.

Then he jerked away, shaking his head as though he were trying to clear his thoughts. She was already reaching up to pull him back to her when he caught her hands.

“I know you were just trying to help me out back there. And I know we’ve both had alcohol tonight.”

Byleth snorted. A single goblet of mead had stopped having an effect on her when she was still a child. Mercenaries grew up fast. He smirked a little, no doubt picking up on her thoughts.

“I’m not drunk either,” he confirmed, “but I…you…”

“You don’t want this.”

He laughed, the sound so dry and strained that she couldn’t see what was humorous.

“Ah, my friend…that’s not it. In fact, the problem is quite the opposite. I want this too much, and I’ve wanted it for too long, to make an unbiased decision here.” His eyes burned down into hers, making her shiver and press closer to his body. “The minute we do this, everything changes.”

She shook her head and opened her mouth, but he stopped her.

“It will. Right now, if…if you wanted to go, needed to leave my side after the war, I think I could be strong enough to bear it. But if we were to…I can’t be with you that way, and then let you go. Do you understand? You’d be mine, and I’d be yours, body and soul. I know…it doesn’t work like that for some people. That sex can be casual. But for me…with you…it would mean too much. You mean too much.”

He sighed and dropped his head, shaking it. “I thought I could stay away from you until the war ended, but then you kissed me and…Well. The best laid plans, as the saying goes.”

Byleth reached for him again. This time he didn’t stop her as she grasped his face and tilted his head back so she could look into his eyes.

“Please, Claude,” she murmured, moving slowly so he could pull away if he so chose. “My body and soul…I think they already belong to you.”

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out by degrees, his arms sliding around her as she lifted back onto her toes to press her mouth to his. This kiss was slower, more thorough. Almost gentle. But she could already feel the heat between them sparking up again, and it wasn’t long before his mouth was burning a trail down her neck as he panted, “where?” against her skin.

“Monastery?” she murmured. “It’s not far if we fly.”

He grinned and nipped at her ear, drawing a gasp from her. “The others will know as soon as they realize we’ve left them behind,” he whispered.

“I don’t care, I want you in my room, in my bed,” she managed breathlessly.

“Then that’s where you’ll have me. I’ll get my wyvern saddled up,” he told her. “Just don’t…change your mind.”

“Never,” she promised, “but hurry anyway. I need you.”

He’d never prepared for a trip so fast in his life.


End file.
